


More Than Blood

by sunstarunicorn



Series: It's a Magical Flashpoint [38]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Reconciliation, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-12-26 06:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18277544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: Sophie Lane hasn’t been happy with her husband’s job in the Strategic Response Unit for some time, but as Ed takes his last ride with Team One, Sophie is confronted with the realization that the family you choose is just as important as blood family.  Meanwhile, Clark discovers for himself that prejudice is just as ugly in the wizarding world as it is in the tech world.





	1. Definition of Family

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the thirty-eighth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Proving Ground – Auror Academy". This story occurs during 04x02: Good Cop and has minor spoilers for the subplot.
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_.

Sophie Lane finished changing her infant daughter’s diaper and glanced up at the clock.  He should’ve been back by now; how long did it take to tell Greg that he was out, transferring to another division?  The dark-haired woman fumed, resolving to read Ed the riot act when he got home.  How _dare_ he drag this out any longer than he already had?  He was probably hoping she would change her mind… _ha!_

Izzy goo-gahhed at her mother, waving one chubby arm and earning an affectionate smile as Sophie cooed down at her daughter.  For now the baby sported blondish hair, but Sophie suspected it would begin to darken before too much longer.  Her thoughts shifted back to Eddie, resentment boiling just under the surface.  But before she could get on her mental high horse again, there was a small mental nudge at her, wedging itself into a solitary crack in her resentment.

_“He’s doing what you want; why are you still so angry?”_

Sophie’s movements slowed and Izzy took advantage; she did her best to stuff her mother’s ring finger in her mouth.  Gently, Sophie reclaimed her finger with a soft, “No, Izzy.”  Hefting up her daughter, Sophie located her favorite chair and sank into it to think.  Eddie was giving up a job he _loved_ for her, for their family.  Anything she wanted, he was giving it to her, no questions asked, as if he was terrified she would leave him again.  The _look_ in his eyes when she’d finally demanded he leave, that he’d had more than enough time to leave Team One on a ‘higher note’, but he’d bowed to her demand without a syllable of protest.  And she was getting angry because he wanted to say good-bye, maybe even wanted to ride along on one last call?  Was _that_ fair?

The larger part of her mind was sulking; _he_ hadn’t been fair to _her_ , so why should _she_ be gracious and forgiving?  Izzy gurgled in her arms, demanding attention, and Sophie rocked her daughter, singing to her quietly.  Wide blue eyes looked up at her and Izzy even tried to reach an arm out to Sophie’s mouth.  Sophie met her daughter partway with another smile and a playful light shake of Izzy’s arm.  Her little blessing and Clark’s first introduction to sibling-hood.

Sophie’s thoughts stilled as Izzy gurgled happily up at her.  If Eddie hadn’t been there the day Izzy was born…if he’d followed her frantic order to get himself taken care of, would Izzy be here?  She knew it hadn’t been Ed alone who’d saved their daughter, but still, perhaps she owed it to him to be more understanding?  If the tables were turned and _she_ had to give up a group of coworkers who were family in all but blood to her, wouldn’t _she_ want time to say a proper good-bye?

Sophie sighed to herself, wishing her parents hadn’t just gone on their yearly trip; she needed a sounding board, someone to spout off to and give her another perspective.  Or maybe someone who would distract her from her thoughts temporarily, give her something else to focus on.  Perhaps it was coincidence, but the sudden ringing of her phone felt more like…an answer to her silent need.  Sophie picked up the receiver with a brisk, “Sophie Lane speaking.”

“Sophie?  Shelley Wordsworth.”

The brunette’s smile was unfeigned as she moved the phone to her other hand and bounced Izzy to keep her occupied.  “Shelley!  How are you, how are the girls?”

“We’re all fine,” Shelley replied brightly.  “How are you and your new angel?”

Izzy blew a raspberry as if she could hear Shelley.  Sophie laughed.  “We’re getting there,” she told her friend.  “Been quite a while since the last time I had to do this.”

Shelley’s return laughter rang high and clear, delight spilling down the phone line.  “Listen, Sophie, I wasn’t sure if this was too early or not, but I was thinking maybe we could get together for lunch sometime?” the other woman offered.  “I could see your little darling and my girls could watch her while we had a bit of a chat.”

The offer was extremely tempting, particularly with Eddie still at the station and her mind all a muddle.  “Today?” Sophie asked, mentally crossing her fingers.  Shelley was a practical woman and Sophie valued her friend’s perspective on the unique challenges they faced as wives of men in law enforcement.

Shelley was silent; Sophie’s hopes fell.  Then, thoughtfully, as though Shelley had merely moved to her calendar, Shelley remarked, “Nothing on my schedule for today.  Your Clark is out with Greg’s rapscallions?”

Sophie bit back a giggle.  “Yes.  I think Clark wanted a bit more information on you-know-what.”

Again, Shelley laughed.  “Our usual little corner place?”

“I’ll be there,” Sophie promised.

* * * * *

It had been months since the two women had been able to coordinate their schedules enough to meet at a small delicatessen they both enjoyed.  Sophie had been able to meet her friend there a few times before the doctors had ordered her to bed rest; after bed rest, Shelley had once brought Sophie’s favorite sandwich right to the Lane household, the two of them giggling and laughing together like schoolgirls.  That had been a week before Sophie had had enough and left Eddie to fend for himself.

The gossip and chatter easily filled the air as the women reconnected and swapped infant/toddler tales.  Sophie burst out laughing as Shelley mimed her husband’s reaction to Ally ‘decorating’ his shirt, right before he needed to leave for work one morning.  Her resentment niggled at her; she had no such tales to share of Ed’s misfortunes in child-rearing.  But her uncertainty and confusion was far stronger.  Why hadn’t Shelley brought up her abrupt departure months earlier?  In the past, Shelley had been a quiet voice of reason for the slightly older woman, but she wasn’t even touching on any…complex…issues, just lighthearted tales and anecdotes.  And was it a coincidence, that Shelley had chosen Ed’s last day to reach out?

Pushing her whirling thoughts away, Sophie glanced over at the four girls.  Claire was reading aloud from one of her books to the other three girls.  Lilly was listening with rapt attention, Ally was playing with what looked like a stuffed dragon, and Izzy was gurgling in her car seat, while trying to bang her frog-shaped rattler on the seat’s edge.  “What are they reading?” Sophie asked quietly.

Shelley covered her mouth to stifle laughter.  “Alanna let it slip in Claire’s hearing that her mother named her after a fictional female knight.  She wouldn’t tell Claire any other details, but Claire was able to find more information online.  That’s the first book in the series,” Shelley explained between muffled giggles.

Sophie bit her lip to keep her own laughter from spilling out.  “That poor girl.”

“Oh, I know,” Shelley agreed.  “It gets better.”  Sophie’s eyes widened and she leaned forward eagerly.  “The book Alanna _also_ has red hair and purple eyes,” Shelley whispered.

“And magic?” Sophie guessed.

A vigorous nod.  “ _Purple_ magic.”

Sophie blinked.  “That sounds…odd.”  After all, she was pretty sure the real-life Alanna’s magic was purple as well.

Shelley shrugged.  “Very odd,” she agreed, “but there aren’t many female knights in history, Sophie.”

The brunette opened her mouth to ask what historical female knights had to do with anything, then stopped.  “Calvin family tradition?”

“I think so,” Shelley replied, counting on her fingers.  “When you think about the Calvin first names we know: Lancelot, Arthur, Percival…”

Sophie drummed her fingers and nodded slowly.

Shelley nibbled on her sandwich, letting the silence hang comfortably.  Sophie had always appreciated her friend’s gift for knowing when to talk and when to keep quiet.  But did she want to share her vulnerabilities and doubts with Shelley, knowing that, on this topic, Shelley had divided loyalties?

As if she’d read Sophie’s mind, Shelley inquired, “Have you and Ed decided?”

“On what?”

Shelley’s smile was sad.  “On what you’re going to do now?”

It took a moment, then Sophie understood: Shelley already knew about the ultimatum she’d laid down in front of her husband.  To have something to do, Sophie set her unfinished sandwich down and picked up a fork to fiddle with.  “I thought we had,” Sophie replied, “But I don’t know, Shelley.”  The doubts were surging…was she right to force Ed’s hand?

“Don’t know about what?” Shelley pressed.

Sophie searched for the words, unwilling to lay _all_ of her problems out for the other woman to see.  “Where do I strike a balance?” she finally asked.  “Between what _I_ want and what _Ed_ wants?”

“I don’t know,” Shelley countered at once.  “Have you two talked about that?”

No, they hadn’t; she’d just laid out all her demands, the bitter part of her soul humming in satisfaction at his instant capitulation.  Her silence was answer enough, but Shelley didn’t press her.

The blonde woman considered, then, with a small shake of her head, changed the subject.  “Has Ed told you about Spike?”

Sophie’s attention was caught at once.  “No, we’ve been focusing on Izzy.  Is something wrong with Spike?”  Fear pushed at her for the bright, perky bomb tech, fear that surprised her.  Spike was just her husband’s coworker…wasn’t he?

Shelley’s smile was bitter, resentful.  “His father’s dying.”  Sophie gasped.  “And he won’t talk to Spike at all any more unless he quits the SRU.  His mother wants him to ‘give his father peace’.”

Indignation flared.  “You can’t just leave the SRU and expect to get back in,” Sophie exclaimed.

Shelley pointed her fork at Sophie in clear agreement.  “Kevin and I set up the spare room in case he ever needs a night or two away from home,” the blonde continued.  “He took us up on it last week.  Practically the first night Kevin made the offer.”  Her eyes turned shadowed.  “His father doesn’t deserve him.  I’m not sure his mother does either.”

“Why?” Sophie questioned.

Her friend shook her head without answering.

Hesitant, Sophie asked, “Is anyone else having…trouble?”

Shelley considered.  “You know about Greg pulling his kids out of school?”  Sophie nodded and Shelley lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.  “That’s all I know, although Kevin told me this past weekend that he’s already tired of ‘being perfect all the time’.”

“I imagine they all are,” Sophie agreed.  She glanced over at the four girls, then down at her plate.

“I’ll get a bag,” Shelley murmured, rising to retrieve carry-out containers.

The next few minutes were spent wrapping up leftovers, exclaiming that they ‘needed to do this again sometime’, and friendly wrangling over the bill.  Sophie retrieved Izzy’s car seat and farewelled Shelley’s three little girls.

Before she left, Sophie’s head was left spinning by Shelley’s parting, “Sophie, anything you need, even if you just need to talk, call me.  Any time, day or night.”

Sophie muttered a thank you and departed as quickly as she could.  She was breaking up her husband’s team and Shelley _still_ wanted to be her friend?  She couldn’t understand it.

* * * * *

At home, Sophie fed Izzy and turned on the TV to see news of a riot following the ‘Not Guilty’ verdict in one Constable William Greeley’s trial.  One of the short videos was of an SRU truck being attacked by the mob; the passenger side window was smashed and what looked like a bomb was tossed inside.  Alone in the house, Sophie gasped in horror and prayed it wasn’t Team One out there.

Though she was jogging Izzy up and down, Sophie’s movements slowed and stilled.  Not just Ed… _Team One_.  A year ago, heck, a few _months_ ago, if she’d worried about anyone, it was Ed, not his teammates.  _He_ could worry about his teammates.  Even when Greg asked her and Shelley to trade off hosting his _nipotes_ , it had been more a favor to her husband than Greg and Sophie had been confident Shelley felt the same.

Now she wasn’t so sure; her blood had boiled at Shelley’s sad comments about Spike’s home situation, as if an attack on Spike was an attack against someone she loved.  And now that Sophie was thinking about them, she was remembering all the times Ed’s team had gone out of their way for her over the years.  Not just the times Greg and Wordy, her husband’s closest friends on the team, had pitched in around the Lane homestead, but the time Spike and Lou had shown up at her door on their day off to set up their home wireless network.

Three _hours_ , at least, of crawling around in her home, being told off by her husband for poking their noses – accidentally – in her corner of the house, and enduring the heat; the day before they’d shown up, the air conditioner had partially broken down.  She’d treated the tired computer techs to ice cream and cold sodas afterwards, but it had felt like a drop in the bucket, especially since they’d also made sure the new network was secure and that both she and Eddie knew how to connect to the wifi.

The time she’d gotten a flat tire on the road while most of Team One was out of town for a competition and the team’s then rookie Jules had driven out to help her get the car moving again.  Jules had insisted on following her to the mechanic shop to get the tire fixed _and_ had taken a police report on the spot when they discovered the flat tire had been slashed – clumsily slashed – the knife hadn’t gone all the way through the sidewall, but the tire had failed quickly regardless.

Not to mention the way Greg’s kids had pitched in and helped as much as they could on the nights they stayed over.  One night Sophie had been woken up by the sound of the dishwasher screeching and dying, but neither teenager had let her come and help them.  Instead, they’d corralled Clark and washed every last dish by hand.  When Ed had come home, he’d found Alanna and her laptop in Sophie’s room as the two ladies searched for a new dishwasher.  Lance had even recruited his family house-elf, Mindy, to keep the dishes squeaky clean until the new dishwasher could be installed.  As a bonus, Mindy had also cleaned the house from top to bottom, leaving the whole place cleaner than Sophie could ever remember.

She hadn’t realized it before, but now, thinking about all those times, and more besides, none of it was the sort of thing you did for a coworker…well, maybe some of it was.  Family.  Ed had been on other teams before Greg Parker’s and none of them had ever pitched in the way Parker’s had.  Ed had told her, after the evaluations and Izzy’s birth, about how that Dr. Toth had ripped Greg apart for treating his team like family; she’d been livid on Greg’s behalf.  How _dare_ this…this _outsider_ judge Greg for a team that _worked_ as well as Team One did.

Looking back at the television, Sophie bit her lip.  She still felt justified in making demands on Ed and his time, but to make him leave behind most of his family…most of _their_ family…she couldn’t do it.  Tears stung her eyes and protests screeched inside her mind.  She was _so_ close to having her husband back, for her family, all to herself.

So close to making her husband surrender a good share of what made him the man she’d fallen in love with.  He was hers, yes, but he was also Team One’s, and Clark’s and Izzy’s, too, now that she was thinking about it.

Sophie considered going to the station to talk to Ed, but decided against it.  No, she wanted to do this face-to-face and have a _real_ discussion, not just her list of demands and woe to her husband if he disagreed with her.  She located her cell phone and called Ed’s voicemail; no need to interrupt him in the middle of a hot call.  “Ed, it’s me.  I think we need to talk a bit more about your transfer before you ask for it.  See you tonight.”

She clicked off before she could change her mind and set her phone down on the table.  Gently, she started bouncing Izzy again, earning a squeal of delight from the infant.  “Did you know your Daddy’s a hero, Izzy?  Yeah, he is,” she whispered.  “And all your aunts and uncles are heroes, too.”


	2. Cousin Once Removed

Clark looked around the magical shopping district, wondering which way to go first.  Lance and Alanna were tense, something he didn’t quite get.  Shouldn’t _he_ be the nervous one, not them?  They hadn’t wanted to bring him, claiming it was better to wait until ‘things settle down’, but Clark wanted to see _magic_ and he’d talked them into the day trip.  What was the worst that could happen?

One shop caught his eye and Clark made his way over, whistling at all the hats in the window.  “Weird,” he burst out, staring at one wizard hat with what looked like a stuffed _flamingo_ on top.

Alanna giggled.  “No one ever said wizards had much sense,” she told him.  “One of the matriarchs in Britain has a stuffed vulture on her hat.”

“Ugly looking thing,” Lance agreed, inspecting another hat.  “Hey, that looks like a Weasley hat.”

“Weasley hat?” Clark asked, glancing at the pale, almost translucent headwear.

“Yeah, it probably turns your head invisible.”

“Why would you _want_ to?” Clark demanded.

Lance smirked.  “As a prank.”

As a…  Clark groaned.  “Please tell me you never brought Lou, Spike, or Wordy here,” he begged.

Alanna giggled again.  “Don’t worry, you can’t use magical pranks in the tech world without getting in trouble, so they never got any of those.”  She looked up at her brother.  “As long as we’re here, I want to pick up a fresh supply of Licorice Wands and Sugar Quills from the candy shop.”

Lance nodded and glanced at Clark, who shrugged.  A magical candy shop…should be interesting…

As the trio headed down the street, Clark examined each window, awed and marveled by the sheer _variety_ of magical goods for sale.  There was nothing for sale that wasn’t magical in _some_ fashion, he realized as he spotted one store window with a sink on display that was sprouting water like a fountain.  The robes he was wearing over his usual clothes itched right under the collar, but that was a minor annoyance compared with all the wonders around him.

Then he spotted what _had_ to be a magical bookshop and there were books fighting in the window.  The brunet did a double take, gawping as he slid to a stop and stared.  Fighting.  Books.  No _way_.  There was a stifled snort from his right and he jerked around.  Lance.

“Hey, ‘Lanna,” the younger boy called gleefully, “looks like someone talked the bookstore into ordering _The Monster Book of Monsters_.”

“What were they _thinking_?” Alanna wondered, joining the two boys.  “I would’ve thought what happened at Flourish and Blotts would be more than enough to warn off all the other book stores.”

“What happened?” Clark asked eagerly.

Alanna smirked.  “Pretty much _that!_ ”  She pointed to the cage in the window where two _Monster_ books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.  Two store employees hurried into view with long canes and forced the three books apart.  One grabbed the ‘injured’ book and yelped as it bit him for his trouble.  Seeing the gobsmacked look on Clark’s face, Alanna snickered.  “Let’s just say Flourish and Blotts never stocked them again after the first year.  At least, that’s what Dad told us.”

“I can see why,” Clark muttered, turning away from the window as a group of five books ganged up on two ‘injured’ books, snarling and snapping.  Of course, the fighting books just meant Clark was even _more_ eager to see what else the magical stores had in their windows.

In fact, Clark was so busy looking around that he nearly walked into the candy shop’s door.  Lance grabbed his arm and hauled him sideways just in time.  Once inside, Clark could only stop and stare at the massive amounts of candy for sale.  It didn’t appear to be organized in any particular way: he could see a bucket of ‘Acid Pops’ right next to the register and another bucket of ‘Pixie Puffs’ on the other side.

The witch behind the counter chuckled at the look on Clark’s face.  “First time here?”

Flushing, Clark rubbed the back of his head.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“He’s our first cousin, once removed,” Lance announced jauntily to the curious witch.  Clark blinked at this, confused.

Alanna, prowling the candy racks after grabbing what looked like a bagful of long, twisted black wands and bird feathers, called, “Anything in here that’s Squib friendly?”

“Oh, for your uncle?” the clerk asked, sweeping over eagerly.

The redhead nodded, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Clark was caught off guard as the witch pulled her wand and waved it in a wide, all-encompassing movement.  As one, the candy jumped off the store racks and rapidly reassembled into a new configuration.  Clark whistled low, unable to help himself.

The clerk chuckled as she guided the trio to the center of one wall.  “Now, this is fairly recent,” she began, “But I’ve been attending the Muggle Farmer’s Market every so often.  Such reasonable prices and the Muggles are so helpful,” she gushed.  Clark worked to keep his smirk off his face.

“That’s the one just a few blocks away from the gateway?” Alanna asked.

“Oh, you know about it?” the witch inquired.

“Never been,” Lance admitted, inspecting the candy in front of them.

“Well,” the clerk continued, “I got to chatting with some of the regular vendors and they pointed me in the direction of an older Muggle who liked to make and sell his own candy.  Last month, he decided to retire and sold me all his recipes as long as I promised to keep selling his candy at the Market.”

“So this is all Muggle?” Clark questioned, tapping the boxes in front of him.

The clerk nodded and gestured to the entire shelf area.  “All of this is Muggle,” she confirmed, before pointing to the next two shelves, one on either side.  “The next shelves are magical, but fairly tame and mild; Squibs should be able to enjoy them…if it weren’t against the Statute, I’d add them to my Market table.”  She tapped her chin, inspecting the next shelves.  “In fact,” she added thoughtfully, “I think this entire wall of the store is Squib-safe, but I wouldn’t go any farther myself.”

With her warning in mind, Clark started from the ‘Muggle’ candy and worked his way out, marveling over the stacks of candy with names like: Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Fizzing Whizzbees, and Ice Mice.  Gingerly, he picked out several of the magical candies and awkwardly motioned Lance over so the two could talk.  “What do you think?” Clark asked in an undertone.

Lance tugged one of the more interesting looking candy tins away.  “Believe me,” he muttered, “You don’t want Sugared Butterfly Wings, Clark.”  At Clark’s inquiring expression, the younger boy grimaced and hissed, “They actually _do_ have butterfly wings in them.”

Clark swallowed hard and turned his attention back to the candy still in his hands.  “What about the rest?”

Lance peeked over Clark’s shoulder again, then shrugged.  “Rest might be a bit…unusual, but nothing nasty.”  With that, Lance headed back to another candy shelf, grabbing several chocolate bars off the middle shelf with one hand and hooking his fingers under a few blood-flavored lollipops.  Clark made a face at the lollipops, only to get a sly and wicked grin in return.

“Lance, those are disgusting,” Alanna complained as she came back from her foray to the back of the candy shop.

Lance stuck his nose in the air.  “You just don’t appreciate the finer things in life, ‘Lanna.”

“Yes, I do,” Alanna retorted, “And _that’s_ not one of them.”  When Lance merely sniffed in mock offense, his sister rolled her eyes and took her choices up to the register.  Clark followed, but when he tried to get in line behind the younger girl, she set her candy down and turned around to grab his.  “We’re buying, Clark.”

“I can buy,” Clark protested automatically.

“You’re our _guest_ ,” Alanna retorted.

“Only fair,” Lance agreed from right behind Clark, earning a startled jump.

The clerk chuckled at their antics as she rang them up, smiling even wider when she spotted some of her ‘Muggle’ sweets in Lance’s pile.  “Fifteen Sickles and seven Knuts,” she announced.

Lance scooted past Clark and his sister, pulling a small leather bag from where it had been tucked inside his robes and tied to his belt.  The bag clinked as the teenager opened the top, pulling out the bronze Knuts first.  He was counting out the silver coins when a large, meaty hand came down on the counter with a loud _thunk_.  “We don’ need _your_ kind here,” the grizzled man attached to the hand growled, leaning in close from his spot right at the counter, between the three teenagers and the shop door.

Sapphire eyes were calm as they looked up.  “My kind?” Lance inquired lightly, cocking his head to the side.

With a snarl, the man backhanded the young man hard enough to knock him down; the blow thrust his chin sideways and hurled him to the ground.  Alanna leapt between her brother and his attacker with a shriek of indignation; she was seized by the stranger, hefted off the floor, and tossed down next to her brother.  The girl struck the ground on her back, but her slightly curled posture kept her head from impacting the floor.

“Hey!” Clark yelled, darting between his friends and the wizard; he cringed at the alcohol he could smell on the man’s breath.

“ _Wild Mages_ ,” the man spat, contemptuous; one hand reached for his forearm.  “You come in here, stink up our air, threaten our children.”

He froze mid-reach as a wand touched his throat.  “That’s quite enough,” the matronly store clerk snapped, jabbing her wand harder into the thick featured man’s throat.  “You should be ashamed of yourself, Richard, _ashamed_.  Attacking children?”

“They ain’t children,” Richard spat; Clark’s hands balled into fists and he braced himself to launch at the larger man.  “They’re _Wild Mages_ , Mary.  Dark Wizards out to ruin us.”

“Nonsense,” Mary retorted.  “They weren’t harming any one, you old fool.  Just buying candy.  Now be off before I call the Aurors.”

“Or I do,” another man growled from the open doorway, his face flushed and his expression fierce despite the fact that he was a full head shorter than his opponent and rather pudgy.

Richard backed down in the face of two adult wizards, but spat at Lance’s feet before he stormed out.  Clark watched in dismay as Lance sighed, climbed to his feet, and dusted himself off without a word, as if nothing had happened.  “You okay, Clark?”

“Am _I_ okay?  What about _you_?” Clark burst out angrily as Alanna scrambled up as well.  “What _was_ that?  Why didn’t you fight back?”

Sapphire flicked to him and Clark saw the flash of hidden bitterness above the livid mark on his cheek.  “And get hauled up in front of the Aurors for assault?  No thanks.”

“What are you two even doing here?” the portly wizard demanded.

Lance shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly, rolling the other – the one he’d landed on.  “Clark here wanted to come.”

Alanna gently pulled Clark over to the wizard, ignoring the older boy’s anxious once over; she _looked_ fine, but he wasn’t _sure_.  “Mr. Owens, this is our cousin, Clark.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mr. Owens replied, shaking Clark’s hand.  “Now, what in Merlin’s name were you thinking, to ask your cousins to take you out shopping at a time like this?”

Confusion etched itself across Clark’s face and he stumbled for a reply.

Mr. Owens, though, sighed quietly.  “You two didn’t tell him?”

“Tell him what?” Lance demanded as he finished paying for the candy; the clerk discreetly tucked it in a bag for the teens.  “That me ‘n’ ‘Lanna aren’t considered human anymore?”

“What?” Clark yelped in shock and horror.

Mr. Owens scowled.  “Now that’s going a bit far, isn’t it?”

“Can’t see _how_ ,” Lance grumbled, taking the shopping bag.  “He could’ve done anything he wanted to us, short of Suppression Potions, and nothing would’ve happened.  But if we’d fought back, he coulda charged us with assault.”  He sighed, brushing his hair back.  “Sorry, Clark.  I know you wanted to see more, but we’d better head home.”

“You can come to Shiloh,” Mr. Owens offered.  “It’s not the same without you two rascals there every day.”

“We weren’t there _every_ day,” Alanna protested, though her voice was sad and subdued.

Mr. Owens jostled her shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile.  “Felt like it,” he teased.  “Stay for a bit and I bet Grant will make sure you guys get back on the Knight Bus, no problem.”

Sapphire and violet shifted to Clark and he studied Mr. Owens, wishing he knew more about the man.  Then he shrugged and hiked one shoulder.  He was game…and maybe he could find out more about why his friends had been attacked in broad daylight and no one had done anything to stop it or arrest the perpetrator.

* * * * *

Of course, once safely inside a medium sized building called Shiloh Dueling Academy, the wizard turned around and read Clark’s younger friends the riot act, scolding them for putting themselves – and Clark – in danger.  Clark squirmed, feeling like _he_ should be the one being scolded…Lance and Alanna had _tried_ to talk him out of the day’s adventure, but he’d been so insistent that they really hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

When Mr. Owens was finished with his lecture, he pinned the two teenagers with a deadly look.  “No more wandering around, not till this dies down.”

“An’ what if it _never_ dies down, Brady?” a slim blonde witch demanded from her desk.  She rose, planting her hands on her hips.  “Do Lance and Alanna have to spend the rest of their lives hiding under a rock, just ‘cause their magic’s a bit different?”

“You know I don’t care about the magic, Brooke,” Mr. Owens protested.  “But that drunken bum Richard was kicking up a fuss in the candy shop.”

“What did that man do this time?” Brooke snapped, outraged.

“He knocked them down,” Clark spoke up.  “He might’ve done more, but Mr. Owens and the candy shop owner stopped him.”

“And you didn’t call the Aurors on that waste of magic?” Brooke inquired angrily.  When Mr. Owens squirmed, she shook her head.  “Of course you didn’t, Brady Owens.”  Crossing her arms, she added, in a very pointed tone, “Don’t you have a class to teach?”

As Mr. Owens scampered away, Alanna looked up at Brooke.  “It’s okay, Mrs. Taylor.  We’re getting used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Mrs. Taylor hissed.  “That man.  I’ll have Grant sit him down later for a talk.”  Shaking her head, Mrs. Taylor walked right up to Clark.  “And you are?”

Clark’s smile tugged at his jaw.  “I’m Clark, ma’am.”

“Brooke,” the witch corrected.

Just past her, Clark saw Lance mouth something at him.  Keeping his face still, Clark replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

Then he yelped as she ruffled his hair.  “Just like these two rascals, are you?” Mrs. Taylor remarked in exasperation.  “Never mind.  Welcome to Shiloh, Clark.”  Almost casually, Mrs. Taylor turned towards Lance and Alanna.  “So, do you want to stay and do a few practice matches for the next tournament?”

The two traded looks.  “Are we allowed?” Lance asked nervously.

Another wizard appeared, poking his head out of his office.  Hearing Lance’s question, the balding man grinned.  “You sure are,” he called, ducking back into his office and reappearing with a baseball cap on.  An embroidered eagle head adorned the red cap, its gaze both impassive and fierce.

“Nice hat, Mr. Taylor,” Alanna called with a mischievous grin.

“Thanks,” he replied, giving her a wide smile.  “Everyone on the team’s going to get one.”  He held up one hand, showing all three teens a slim, official looking book.  “Now, I read this thing forwards, backwards, even took a shot at side-to-side.”  His grin turned lopsided as his wife giggled at him.  “Had Brooke read it, J.T., and Brady, and all of us came up with the same answer.  You can duel as long as you stick to Latin.”

“What about wandless?” Lance asked.

“Long as its Latin based, you can use it,” Mr. Taylor informed the teenager, though he smiled at Lance’s attempt to find a loophole.

Alanna, though, bit her lip.  “But what if they try to disqualify the Eagles ‘cause we’re on the team?  That’s not fair to everyone else.”

Humor vanished and Mr. Taylor moved close to Clark’s friends, leaning down and speaking almost too softly to hear.  “Hey, listen to me.  If the officials make that call, that’s on _them_ , not on you.  And if your teammates get mad and try to blame you, I’ll set ‘em straight, understand?”  Clark watched anxiously; he didn’t think the teens were really listening to their teacher, not with their eyes fixed to the ground.  Mr. Taylor sighed.  “Will you at least think about it?”

They nodded without looking up.

Mr. Taylor traded a discouraged look with Mrs. Taylor, then forced another smile on his face.  “Okay, how ‘bout I see about calling the Knight Bus so you guys can go home.”


	3. Fighting Together

Sophie looked up from Izzy’s latest feeding when she heard the door open.  Clark trudged in, jacket in one hand and two bags in the other.  She opened her mouth to greet him, but he swung his chin away from her and slipped past without speaking.  The mother watched him go, heart aching; she rather suspected Clark had discovered some of the unfortunate facts of the wizarding world and was still reeling from it.  It wasn’t pretty, how Greg’s kids were being treated, but it did serve as a graphic illustration of the wizarding world’s darker side.  Much as Sophie regretted it, better that Clark learned now and went into that world with his eyes wide open.  Even if that meant her usually cheerful, son was solemn, somber, and wasn’t gracing their home with his favorite classical music.

Determinedly, Sophie turned her own attention to the front door; Ed had called once he’d finally gotten her voicemail, asking if she was _sure_ she wanted to talk about his transfer.  When she’d reassured him that she was, he’d promised to come home with dinner.  She suspected he planned to butter her up and _that_ was just fine with her.  Though she was now more open to compromise, she would never turn down a bribe.

Close to half an hour after Clark arrived, the doorbell rang.  Confused, Sophie hurried to the door, then suppressed a laugh: Ed’s arms were piled high with fried chicken takeout and he didn’t have a spare hand for the door.  She pulled the inner door open and waited for him to sidestep before opening the screen door.  “Eddie, can I help?”

“Nah, I’m okay,” Ed reassured her as he worked his way inside and past her.  “Just couldn’t get the door.”

Glancing out the door, she saw that Eddie’s car door was still open; before she could make a move, Ed hurried out the door to close and lock his car.  Sophie shook her head affectionately; it wouldn’t have been any trouble for her, particularly when she suspected Eddie had gotten her favorite chicken strips for dinner.  She opted not to say anything though as he came back to greet her properly.

“After dinner?” she proposed.  “But you get to roust Clark out of his room…I think he got a good look at how the wizarding world treats anyone different.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Ed promised, wincing at her observation.  “Can you…?”

“Go,” Sophie murmured.  “The sooner you talk to him, the sooner we can eat.  I’ll feed Izzy and get the chicken ready.”

“Got it.”

* * * * *

Clark looked up at the knock on his door; he wasn’t stupid, he knew his Mom had sent his Dad in after him.  “It’s open,” he called, not bothering to get up from where he’d sprawled on his bed.  The wood creaked, his father following it with a wary glance for any teenage laundry piles; Clark rolled his eyes.  “Dad, that was _one_ time!”

“One time too many,” came the instant retort.

Shoulders stiffened, tension spiking.  Figured.  _One_ mistake and his Dad was gonna be on him for _life_.  It wasn’t _fair_ , just like it wasn’t fair that Izzy was getting all the attention and his adopted cousins had to _hide_ from _their own world_.

Then his Dad dropped down on the bed next to him and reached out, rubbing his back.  “How’d it go today, sport?”

“Fine,” Clark mumbled.

“So that’s why all this candy you got today is sitting here, gathering dust, and you’re sulking without any background music.”  Sarcasm rang.

Again, the teenager tensed, but his father’s rubbing never paused.  He kept his eyes down, refusing to respond to the verbal prodding.

“I don’t get it either, Clark.”

Huh?

His Dad sighed.  “Did I ever tell you why we couldn’t tell you right away that Lance survived his car accident?”

“No.”  Resentment, coupled with bewilderment.  What did _that_ have to do with _anything_?

“Well,” Dad began, “We didn’t know at first.  We…”  His voice cracked.  “We thought he died in that fire.”

Clark shivered.

“But your Uncle Roy, he took a second look at that forensic report.  Then he took a few more looks and he called shenanigans on the whole thing.”

The teen snickered, easily able to imagine his uncle doing that.

“He and his partner, _they’re_ the ones who found Lance alive.”  A brief pause.  “Of course, they found him _after_ he’d been de-aged to about four, but still.”

Clark jerked upright, twisting to face his father, eyes wide.  “He was _four_?”

“Yep.”  His father paused again.  “The witch who took him, Clark, she believed he was _her_ son.  Far as I know, she _still_ believes that.”

The teenager swallowed.  “Even with…”

Dad nodded.  “Even with the Wild Magic thing; she doesn’t care.  All she wants is ‘her son’ back.”

Clark gulped, eyes lowering.  Someone who ‘accepted’ the Wild Magic, but only because she was crazy.  He didn’t know if that was better or worse than that drunken bum who’d attacked his cousin.  “And you couldn’t say anything until he was back to sixteen,” Clark supplied dully.

“That’s about the size of it,” his father agreed.  “Of course, the same day the potion wore off is when this whole thing broke wide open, so Greg made the call to give Lance some more time.”

The teen winced.  “Is it…”  At his father’s questioning look, he pressed forward.  “Is it really as bad as I think?”  He stopped, gathering air.  “Are they really…not human anymore?”

His father’s hands came down on his shoulders, squeezing.  “Don’t say that around them.”

Clark nodded frantically.

“But yeah, Clark, that’s how their own world sees them now.  As far as their world’s government is concerned, they _have_ no rights.  No recourse, no one to turn to.  They don’t even have much political power left after Lance pulled a stunt to help Wordy.”

“It’s not right,” Clark whispered.

“No, it’s not,” Dad replied, leaning forward, his forehead almost brushing Clark’s.  “But, son, that’s our opening.”

His forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“This is where we _prove_ that we’re different.  That we don’t _care_ who their parents are or what kind of history their family has.  They’re gonna need help, Clark.”

“They are?”

A solemn nod.  “Before now, Clark, they _lived_ on our side of the fence, but they were always going to go back once they graduated school.  Their school taught tech-side subjects, but Greg let me get a gander at their schoolwork once.  I think you were doing that stuff in _third grade_.”

Clark’s jaw dropped and he stared up, feeling the muscles work without a single word escaping.

“We can help them, _you_ can help them.  Greg’s not gonna keep them outta school forever and once they go back, they’re gonna have a _lot_ of catch up to do.”

Understanding broke through.  “I can help them learn how to _really_ live in our world.”

“You got it.”

“But…but what about _their_ world?”  Plaintive, with faith that his father could make _anything_ better ringing.  Funny…he’d thought he’d outgrown that…

Dad hugged him, resting his chin on Clark’s head.  “I don’t know, son.  For right now, we’re just going to keep them on this side of the fence.  Keep them safe.”

“I’m sorry.”

The hug grew tighter.  “Don’t worry about it, Clark.  You didn’t know.”

No, he hadn’t, but now he did.  And he wasn’t going to let his family down.  Even if it _did_ mean more _schoolwork_.

* * * * *

After dinner, Sophie placed Izzy into her brother’s arms.  “She’s all yours,” she told her son, smiling at his wide-eyed expression.  Gently, she pushed Clark towards his bedroom; no fool, he went, well aware that he didn’t want to be in the middle of _this_ conversation.  Izzy wailed at being away from her mother, but settled as Clark bounced her in his arms.  Sophie waited until the siblings vanished around the corner to look up at her husband.

 

He was braced, shoulders set, and his expression a mix of wary and hopeful; it hurt to see Ed so prepared for yet another war of words, hurt even more when Sophie realized he was already prepared to run up the white flag.  Not sure how to begin, Sophie asked, “How is everyone?”

Surprise flashed on his face, then he lifted one shoulder.  “They’re good, Soph; getting a little fed up with Toth looking over our shoulders all the time, but we’re…dealing with it.”

Sophie nodded, unsurprised that Ed was keeping Spike’s situation to himself…unless he didn’t know?  “Shelley mentioned that today,” she offered in a deliberately offhand way.

Ed’s gaze snapped to hers.  “You two had lunch today?”  The surprise was almost insulting.  Almost.

“She called, so we got together, yeah,” Sophie confirmed, leaning against the counter.  “She mentioned something about Spike?”  Blue eyes dropped to the floor and Ed’s shoulders stiffened as he repressed his outrage.  So he knew.  Probably more than she did, maybe even more than Shelley did.  “Eddie?”

“Not my story to tell, Soph.”

Sophie nodded, not pushing any farther, but she did giggle.  “Do you remember the time he and Lou came over to set up the Wi-Fi?”

He laughed, louder and lighter than she’d heard in a long time.  “And Spike managed to get into _your_ room while you were putting your makeup on.”

They both laughed at the memory, Sophie gasping out, “The _look_ on his face and _yours_ when you caught him.”

“Greg made me apologize for scaring him the next day,” Ed revealed; Sophie just laughed harder at her husband’s sheepish look.  “Said I had to give Spike the layout before I could yell at him for going where he wasn’t supposed to.”

Sophie let herself laugh until she was out of air.  When she looked up, Ed was giving her a lopsided grin, one she returned.  How long had it been since they’d laughed together like this?  She let the humor fade from her eyes.  “Ed, I need you to just listen.  I need to say something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

Wary caution returned, but he nodded without speaking.

The brunette paced, gathering up her thoughts, her emotions.  Turning away from her husband, she drew in a deep breath.  “Ed, I’m _angry_ at you,” she began, spinning and glaring at him.  “I needed _help_ and you weren’t there!  It felt like every time I asked for help, I ran into a brick wall labeled ‘SRU only’.”  Ed winced.  “Everything we did, everything we have, it felt like it was being sucked into your job.  Our vacations, my doctor’s appointments…if you had a hot call, _that_ came first, no matter what I wanted.  I got fed up with it, with _you_.  I didn’t think you cared about me or Clark any more, just your job and your damn team.”  She watched as Ed shrank back from her fury, satisfaction a warm burn through her.

“That’s why you left?”  But when did her big, tough husband start sounding so small and hurt?

“Partly,” Sophie admitted.  “My mother told me I needed to put myself first when I was up there.  I think _they’re_ angry at you, too, but…”

“But…?” Ed asked hopefully.

Sophie traced an absent line on the countertop.  “Mom reminded me that I made a promise to stick with you through the good and bad, no matter what.  She said nothing worth having comes easy.”  She met her husband’s eyes.  “Eddie, I’m not leaving again.  I might get fed up and make a few more trips home, but I’m not leaving you.  And I should’ve given you a chance to fix things instead of just running away.”

“I didn’t treat you right, Soph,” Ed protested.  “I get why you left, really, I do.  I’m…” his words choked in his throat.  “I’m lucky you gave me another chance, after all those years I took and took and didn’t give anything back.”

She laughed, bitterly and sadly, but she laughed.  “Didn’t give anything back, Eddie?”  She moved closer, lifting her hand to meet his.  “Don’t you see yet, Eddie?  I didn’t, not till Shelley told me about Spike having trouble, but now I do.”  Confusion and hope warred on his face; her smile grew.  “They’re _my_ family, too, Eddie.”

“Who?”

She leaned her head on his chest, listening for his heartbeat.  “I’m just sorry it took me so long to figure that out, Ed.”  When his confusion didn’t abate, she elaborated, “Your team, silly.”

More words were on the tip of her tongue when he hugged her fiercely and started kissing her.  He was half crying as he understood what she was saying.  He could stay.  Sophie responded just as fiercely and let the conversation go for several hours.

* * * * *

“So what do I do to keep you from getting mad again?”

She supposed she should’ve expected the question, but it still took several moments to catch up with her sniper.  “What do you think?” Sophie countered, poking Ed’s side.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “That’s why I’m asking you.”

Fair enough, though Sophie pouted all the same.  “Pre-shift workouts?”

“Gone.”

“Overtime?”

She glanced sideways to see him hesitating, but forced herself to wait.  “Gone unless I’m on a call?” he offered after a minute of thinking.

Sophie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.  “Done,” she agreed.  Snuggling closer, she added, “Extracurricular conferences and SWAT team competitions?”

“Totally at your discretion.”

He’d said it too fast.  Sophie considered, then poked him again.  “Five freebies,” she decided.  “ _Then_ my discretion.”  He was getting confused again, but Sophie was quietly determined to let him have his way at least _some_ of the time.  “Off-shift days with Izzy so I can go back to work and start my own catering business.”  She bit back a laugh at the perplexed look on his face, but refused to add the words ‘deal breaker’.

“What if I can find a babysitter?”

“It can only be Clark once a month,” Sophie returned.  “And not at all until Izzy’s at least eight months old.”

Ed nodded.  “I can work with that,” he whispered, pulling her close.

Considering, Sophie murmured back, “You can recruit Clark if there’s a family emergency.”

“Family emergency?”

“Like, say, if Spike or Sam need a ride at two in the morning,” Sophie speculated.

She could feel his laugh.  “So, my team counts as family, does it, Mrs. Lane?”

Sophie smiled back, snuggling closer.  “Yes, Constable Lane, it does,” she confirmed.  “And I expect you to invite them over more regularly.”

“Copy that.”

It wasn’t perfect, she knew.  There were bound to be more bumps in the road, more arguing and jostling, particularly once Eddie got past his fear of her leaving again.  Nor could she justify tethering him to their house on his off-days for the rest of his career, but they had a start.  A place they both agreed on and could build on.  She still had to work through her anger and bitterness and Ed would have to unlearn some of his constant work-work-work habits…they’d undoubtedly butt heads over _that_ more than a few times.

Clark was already a little jealous of the time Ed and Sophie were spending with Izzy; maybe one of Ed’s off-shift days she’d take over and push them out the door for a prearranged father-son outing?  Or she’d take Clark out herself on another off-shift day?

A hand rubbed her back.  “Sophie, go to sleep,” Ed ordered softly.  “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Sophie considered, then leaned as close as she could to Ed’s ear.   “Love you, Eddie.”

He hugged her to him.  “Love you, too, Soph.”

 

_~ Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Well, a bit of authorish elaboration here. While I always knew Ed was going to stay with the SRU, just like in canon, I sorta thought their scene in "Good Cop" was a bit...one-sided. Sure, Ed made a lot of mistakes, but that sort of thing rarely goes _one way_. I have little doubt that Sophie had her own part to play in the estrangement between husband and wife. We just saw more of _Ed's_ mistakes.
> 
> Therefore, to _my_ mind, it was less than fair for Ed to be running up the white flag and giving up so many of 'his' activities, though I _did_ understand why he didn't offer any arguments. So...I tried to give that a bit of a second look and have their new start be a bit more...even. A bit more fair for Ed. That is, after all, the stuff _good_ compromises are made of.
> 
> Anywho... I hope everyone enjoyed this brief interlude with the Lane family. We'll be heading right back into the depths of things as "Double, Double, Toil and Trouble" kicks off Tuesday, April 9th, 2019.


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